


Birds of Prey and the Fantabulous team up with the Gotham City Sirens

by MsAstronaut



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), DCU, Harley Quinn (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fluff, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Past Abuse, Past Harley/Joker - Freeform, Slow-paced, So slow that a snail would outpace the plot, Team Bonding, ao3 is too complicated for me, harlivy - Freeform, no beta we die like men, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24592732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsAstronaut/pseuds/MsAstronaut
Summary: When a new mob boss decides to take the Black Mask's place, the Birds of Prey and the Gotham City Sirens have to team up to stop him. And when both people and objects from her past appear back in her life, Harley Quinn has to deal with a new love interest and the scars left by the last one...Picks up directly after Birds of Prey with minor changes to canon.
Relationships: Birds of Prey Members & Gotham City Sirens, Birds of Prey Members & Harleen Quinzel, Cassandra Cain & Harleen Quinzel, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Past Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel - Relationship, Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn
Comments: 19
Kudos: 57





	1. Girls Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the biggest fanfic project I have ever done... so here it is!
> 
> This will be a plot-heavy, Harley-centric fanfic with two main, interconnected story arcs. With a side-course of harlivy because why not?
> 
> Small changes to canon:  
> \- Harley broke out Joker out of jail, began a life of crime, got locked up, got out with Poison Ivy, teamed up with the Gotham City Sirens while Joker was doing whatever, Joker got locked up, she tried freeing him but ended up being locked away as well, Suicide Squad happened, Birds of Prey happened  
> \- Harley's backstory is largely based on Stjepan Sejic's "Harleen" comic - I really recommend it, btw
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, movies or comics

Harley Quinn did not do anything half-heartedly. When she devoted herself to something – or someone – she went all in.

The Birds of Prey knew this. Which makes the fact that they agreed to a “girls night” with her odd. Well, Dinah and Helena agreed. They knew Harley for only a few months now – three, to be exact – but by now they knew that “girls night” was code for “getting shitfaced, bar crawling and getting into bar fights that Harley started”. Which meant that Renee declined the oh so generous offer. She wasn’t exactly on the sober side and she presumed that she won’t be in the near future: mimosas after a job well done were fine. Getting wasted in a bar with Harley, of all people, wasn’t. Baby steps.

So Renee was on babysitting duty tonight. Cassie rolled her eyes at that term, but genuinely looked forward to spending the evening with the former cop. They knew each other prior to the Diamond Fiasco, as Cassie referred to it, so the kid felt comfortable around her. And they all – even Harley, who backed it with psychological talk about positive role models – agreed that Cassie should spend some time with people who aren’t clinically insane. Besides, the teen took it as her mission to prove to the older woman that she really did talk like a cop from an 80s movie. So while the trio was getting drunk, they had a movie night.

With an excited smile and a tray of drinks balanced in her hands, Harley walked up to the other women. “Ready to get wasted?” she asked with a small squeal. Dinah presumed that she would bounce up if not for the aforementioned tray of overpriced drinks in her hands. 

“Hell yeah!” Dinah replied, a spark of excitement shining in her eyes. Out of the tree of them, she was the most grounded one, but after non-stop crime fighting and side-job hunting (not that she needed the money - she just enjoyed singing in front of a public without the said public being knocked back several meters), she wanted to unwind. A slightly hesitant (though the hesitancy stemmed from lack of social skill rather than feeling unsure) “hell yes” followed from Huntress, who raised her shot and downed it. 

Dinah followed the example, when something caught her eye. She leaned to the side and glanced at the bar.

“Harley?”

“Yes?” The clown looked up at her, an angelic smile playing on her lips and a glint of the devil in her eyes.

“What did you do to one of the bartenders?”

“Oh, I broke his wrist”

“Why?” She asked, a hint of exasperation in her voice. Harley grew on her over the months, but at moments like these, she was reminded why she didn’t like her in the beginning.

“He asked me if I was Joker’s girl” she answered, as it that was a justification. Before either of them could comment, she turned to the mannequin head besides her - yes, the bar’s decour was odd, to say the least, but Harley was the one to pick tonight, much to Dinah’s dismay - and rolled her eyes “No, Janice, I did not overreact. That was a totally reasonable reaction!” 

When she turned back, she was met with Helena’s confused gaze “Did you just talk to the mannequin?”

“She talked to me but yes”

Slowly nodding, she asked the question that secretly bugged all of her teammates, but only she seemed to lack the restraints to ask “What is wrong with you, exactly? In the head department, that is”

Dinah drew in a sharp breath. She trusted Harley to not hurt her teammate but she was a wildcard nevertheless. She remembered when, once, Harley beat up some guy because he called her crazy. But the woman in question seemed unfazed. The clown tipped her head to the side, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Type B personality disorder. And a histrionic personality disorder too, probably.” She shrugged “Deeply rooted childhood trauma, falling in love with a manipulative, abusive madman and jumping into a pit of acid does that to people, I guess. That and psychopathic tendencies” 

“So you’re basically clinically crazy?”

“Crazy fantabulous, yes”

It was fascinating, Dinah noted, when at times the psychiatrist part of her shone through, only to be pushed back into the back of Harley’s mind by the first distraction that caught her eye. This time wasn’t an exception. “Oooh, that’s my jam!” she exclaimed happily when a new song came on. Upbeat, loud and with incomprehensible lyrics - definitely something she would call Harley’s ‘jam’. She downed three shots faster than Dinah thought possible and practically leaped from her seat. “You gals comin?”

Dinah shook her head “I don’t dance before my fourth drink”

Helena did not think of an excuse, so after a moment of silence, Harley decided to just pull her along onto the dance floor. “Come on, hotstuff” The woman sent Dinah a pleading, almost terrified look, but she just shook her head, amused. 

Black Canary hid her small laugh behind her glass. Harley’s dance was just like her personality: quirky, chaotic, fun. Helena, on the other hand, was lost. The “badass killing machine”, as Harley called her, was completely useless at the dance floor. But somehow, with Harley’s help and motivation, she managed to not stand out like a sore thumb. Raising the glass to her lips, Dinah allowed herself to muse on just how far they got during those three months. She trusted them all with her life. And she allowed herself to… be herself with them. She began following in her mother’s footsteps, doing what she secretly always wanted to do but was too scared to do so. It was easy being brave when the people around you always got your back.

Her line of thoughts was cut short when she glanced towards the bar again. The injured bartender was nowhere to be seen, but something else caught Dinah’s eye. A job offer, “singer or band needed”. Bingo. Don’t get her wrong, Dinah loved fighting crime with the birds and she loved spending time with them, even when they annoyed her at times. But she missed singing. She hated her previous boss, but not the job itself. Sneaking a glance at the dancing pair, Dinah rose from her seat and pushed through the crowd of bodies.

“Is the singer gig still open?” she asked the closest bartender. He glanced up from the drink he was preparing and gave her a cut nod “yeah, stop by tomorrow at noon if you want to try out”

Dinah nodded and was about to ask some more questions, but the man had already disappeared. She glanced at the piece of paper. Bi-weekly concerts, late at night. They paid decently, too. If Harley can balance being a villain-slash-mercenary-slash-general annoyance to everybody around her, roller derby and taking care of the kid, Dinah could manage crime fighting and singing, right? Maybe she will try out.

Leaning with her back against the counter, she watched her friends enjoy themselves. Heh, friends - if someone told her a year ago - or even three months ago - that she would be friends with the last surviving Bertinelli and the Joker’s (now ex) girlfriend, she would laugh in their face. But now? She wouldn’t change them for the world. Dinah considered herself a loner before being forced into the hunt for the diamond, but it wasn’t a good type of lonely. Having so many people willing to die and kill for her will probably take some time to get used to, but she appreciated them. She was once again pulled out of their thoughts - what else should she have expected in a bar? - when she heard the bartender talk to someone angrily. Perhaps before the Diamond Fiasco, she would’ve pretended that she didn’t see it, but her time with the birds made her more… vigilant in situations like these.

“What the fuck do you mean the shipment didn’t come?”

The woman he was talking to leaned forward, propping her hands on the counter “Batman interrupted. But don’t worry, we have another one on the way, with more security this time”

Though the lights were dim, Dinah could see the bartender’s constipated face “will there be time delays?”

“No. I guarantee it”

“Good. It’s your head on the line” He answered, a hint of fear interlaced with the anger of his tone. The woman nodded and walked away, disappearing into the crowd. The bartender sighed and rubbed his temples, but was soon waved over by a drunk patron.

Now, Dinah might be nursing her second drink of the night and the club might be a loud place, but she was pretty sure that whatever she has heard was… shady, to say the least. You don’t have your head “on the line” because of vodka deliveries, even in Gotham. With a small frown, she promised to herself that she’ll talk with her team about this. Trying to react now would be illogical - one glance at her friends told her exactly how intoxicated they already were.

While she was nurturing her drink, suddenly an odd feeling of feeling watched overcame her. She glanced to the sides but did not spot anything suspicious. “You’re going crazy yourself, Lance” she muttered under her breath. It must’ve been the mannequins spread around the club. Harley was  **not** picking the place next time.

Shaking her head once again, she finished her drink and decided to join her friends.

* * *

Dinah awoke with a piercing headache. She opened her eyes cautiously, only to close them when the sunlight hit them. Groaning, the singer covered her head with her pillow. She really should buy blinds or curtains for the big windows. After muttering a few curses, re-evaluating her life choices and groaning some more, she finally got out of bed. A cold shower was what fully woke her up. She sung under the shower, knowing that the room was soundproof. Their whole base was, really.

After changing, she exiting her room, she was met with the sight of Harley sprawled out on the couch in their “common area” and Helena drinking coffee at the table nearby. Or at least attempting to - her head was in her hands and by the looks of it, she was even more hangover than Dinah. Hearing her enter, the assassin glanced up with a small smile. 

“Coffee?”

Dinah gladly accepted and moved to wake up Harley. Which proved to be surprisingly easy:

“Yo, Harls. Wake up” The woman in question groaned and gently slapped away her hand. Dinah rolled her eyes “Harley! You’ll miss on egg sandwiches”

Upon hearing that, the clown jumped up and out of the bed. “What? Where?”

Helena bursted out in laugher and Dinah smiled, amused. “Sorry, I lied. There are no sandwiches” Harley rolled her eyes, muttered something about liars and moved to pour herself some coffee as well. They spent their morning in a comforting silence. Harley left after a while to her own apartment, wanting to catch up with Cassie.

The Birds of Prey lived together. They decided that it would be most beneficial to do so, especially since crime fighting was their main job now. They didn’t have to worry about money, the Bertinelli fortune being more than enough to fund their team. Harley and Cassie lived in their own apartment, not too far away from their base. Pawning the diamond gave her enough money to buy an apartment big enough for her, Cassie and Bruce to live comfortably. Helena didn’t seem to mind Harley taking the diamond for herself. Dinah, on the other hand, continued to pester the clown about the stolen car every chance she got. She still didn’t get it back.

A few hours later, Dinah headed to the club. The door was, not surprisingly, open though the club itself was nearly empty, a stark contrast to the crowds they were met with last night. In daylight, the mannequins and odd decour of the place looked more… quirky than disturbing. Still, not her taste. As she entered, a band was finishing their ‘try out’. If that was her competition, then they’ll beg her to take the job. 

A woman in her early forties, with light skin and light hair and an almost cruel gaze sat in front of the band with a frown. Dinah suspected she was the manager. Clearly, she was enjoying this as much as Dinah was. Noticing her, she spared her a glance and waved her over. The band, thankfully, quickly finished their ‘music’ and were almost kicked out by the manager. They ran out as quickly as they could, and Dinah could swear that at least one of them had a tear in his eye. Clearing her throat, the manager turned to her.

“I’m sorry for that. My name is Sarah Fowler, I’m the manager here. I’m assuming you’re here for the singer job?”

Huh, so the woman preferred to get straight to the point. Dinah could respect that, even if she gave off a bad vibe.

“Yes. Dinah Lance” she outstretched her hand but Sarah was already waving her off to the stage “give me your best, then”

And give her best she did. Dinah sang “Joke’s on you”, a song etched in her mind because of Cassie. The singer was popular among teenagers, apparently. Her voice was smooth, but powerful. She hit every note with expert precision and did not stumble once over the lyrics. Dinah gave her best, which made the manager’s disregard to her concert… baffling. Sarah kept glancing over at her phone, clearly preoccupied by the messages she seemed to receive every two seconds. When Dinah was done, the manager’s phone rang. Timing.

Dinah stood awkwardly on the stage for a few minutes while Sarah took the call. She moved away so all the singer heard were incoherent mumblings. She jumped off of the stage just as the manager turned around. 

“Yeah, that was decent” Dinah might not be as good at reading people as Renee, but she immediately recognized it as an off-hand comment rather than a genuine one. Before she could say anything, though, a paper and a pen were shoved into her hands “you can start on Friday”

Dinah hesitated for a moment - did she really want another boss that was just a jerk? She glanced at the paper and at the manager, who was already engrossed in another phone call. She decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. Surely, she had more important things to do than listen to jobless singers and bands. Dinah would be tired too, in her place.

That was when the door bursted open.

Harley waltzed in, immediately looking around, as if searching for something. “Harley Quinn?” the manager asked, before she could. Dinah watched as the older woman’s eyes revealed surprise, before being lit up as if she had an idea. With a smile that she didn’t think the manager was capable of, she walked up to her clown friend. Harley and Dinah exchanged a look of confusion.

“Yes?”

“It’s an honor to finally meet Gotham’s crime queen!” When exactly Harley acquired the title of crime royalty, Dinah did not know. Apparently Harley didn’t either.

“Well, thank you. It’s always nice to meet fans!”

“Since I’ve heard you visited our club, I was hoping to have a chance to talk to you”

“Oh, what about?” Harley’s eyebrows shot up as she followed Sarah further inside.

“You, of course. You have a pretty… powerful reputation now. I was hoping you’d like to visit the club a bit more often. I’ll be frank, it’s good to have the name of someone important affiliated with a business. In return, you’ll get free drinks for you and your friends. What do you say?”

If Dinah had to guess, she’d assume that Harley agreed the moment she heard the part about free drinks. From the look of her energetic nod, she guessed right. Shaking her head, Dinah focused back on the contract, zoning out the rest of their conversation. Which was cut off quickly with yet another ring of the manager’s phone. She apologized profusely and left after collecting the now-signed contract. Dinah could swear she heard something about shipments again.

“What are you doing here, birdy?” Harley asked, appearing in front of her.

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing”

“I lost my earrings. Ya know, the ones with the letters ‘H’ and ‘Q’”

“Harley. You have them on right now” Dinah replied, holding back laughter. The clown responded with an ‘oh’ when she glanced in a mirror nearby. “That makes sense” she muttered before whipping her head back to face Dinah again “what about you?”

Dinah sighed. “Just don’t tell the rest, ok? I’m here for a job interview. I want to go back to singing” She didn’t want the rest to know because she did not want them to react badly. Crime fighting was now their main job and she did not want an argument to come out of this.

“Oooh, you are a secrety birdy, aren’t you?”

“Harley-” Dinah started, ready to explain herself, but the clown just shook her head “no worries, D, I got you”

Dinah nodded, grateful.

...

“So, will you ever give me back my car?”

“No”


	2. Ties

Heeled boots clicked on the marble floors as a young woman crossed the open lobby. Dressed in a trench coat and a hat, most of her skin was hid from the curious onlookers. Gracefully, she came to a halt in front of one of the desks. A clearly bored man in his fifties glanced up, a forced smile plastered on his face.

“How can I help you, miss?”

“I’m here to make a withdrawal” 

“Withdrawal of what?”

“Of all the money you have!” 

  
  
The trench coat fell to the floor, pooling around her legs. The hat followed it, and a smiling Harley was revealed, with a rather big gun in her hand and a sturdy-looking bat attached to her belt “right now!”

The man stood up abruptly, tipping the chair. “But where-” his question was cut off when a duffel bag was thrown at his head. Harley pointed the gun at him, a smile playing on her lips “I’m not a patient person. You better hurry up”

The bank itself wasn’t a big one, but it was exclusive. Not even a dozen people were inside before Harley entered, and clients were half of that. Speaking of, the clients, pulled out from their conversations or seats by the sudden threat, started panicking. And a sneaky little thief took advantage of that. Wallets, watches and jewelry of expensive brands landed in Cassie’s pockets one by one, the kid taking advantage of the fact that the clients’ focus was elsewhere. When the clients stopped panicking - and lost many valuables in the process - they started running to the exit. But to their surprise, the exit was locked. Turns out, Cassie was as good at sneaking into places and pressing the right buttons as she was at street theft. 

There were only the two of them, so they had to work fast. While the bank worker finally started dumping money into the duffel bag under Harley’s impatient, but watchful gaze, Cassie dropped a bag of her own in the middle of the lobby, a bunch of handcuffs spilling out of it. With a gun of her own - who knows where she hid it before - she pointed to them.

“Put these on. Now!”

The terrified clients and workers that gathered in front of the entrance hesitated. Cassie rolled her eyes and pointed the gun at one of the men. She pulled the trigger, and a big rubber ball shot out, hitting him in the head and knocking him out. Harley glanced over her shoulder and smiled “You’re doing great, sweetie!”

Normally, Harley would do more, but the goal of this heist was to teach the kiddo how to rob a bank. Well, that, and getting money. And completing a job for a client. Killing three birds with one stone, Harley Quinn style.

“Thanks, Harley!” Cassie chirped back, her tone a stark contrast to her barking orders at the clients and workers. But while a few complied, cuffing themselves to the nearby railing and throwing their phones across the room, the rest seemed to start thinking rationally. Or, at least, semi-rationally: there were more of the clients and workers than the robbers, after all. What they did not account for, was Harley Quinn.

All hell broke loose for a few minutes. Cassie shot another ball, but merely bruised someone in the process. The gun was soon ripped out of her hands and thrown across the lobby. Harley sighed, rolled her eyes and hit the knocked the man in front of her with a swift jab. “Goody two shoes always have to spoil the fun” His body fell right besides the nearly full duffel bag. Flipping backwards in an elegant salto, she positioned herself inbetween the kid and the suddenly motivated mob of people. Call her a softie, but she didn’t want the kid hurt. 

Another gun - this time the one belonging to the clown - landed in Cassie’s hands as Harley took her beloved bat into her hands. The kid backed out of the way, shooting an employer that picked up their phone. Knocking him out, that is. Their guns were nearly identical, the only difference being the decorations.

“Let’s dance” a smile broke out on Harley’s face.

In a flurry of graceful movements, astounding acrobatics and strong kicks, the clown princess of crime took down her enemies. Defeating them was as easy as taking away a kid’s candy - that is, as long as the metaphorical kid isn’t Cassie, as the girl had a sweet tooth and a painful right hook - and in a few minutes, she was done.

Meanwhile, Cassie shot down another employee that dashed for the phone. She has been training her aim with Huntress, and it showed. Soon enough, everyone except the duo and the few people that were cuffed up was knocked out - and probably bruised in numerous places. 

Harley flexed her arm “Ugh, I should’ve stretched before this”

“You’re just old”

“At least I’m not a five year old”

“I’m twelve” Cassie rolled her eyes. Secretly, she enjoyed their little banter but she would never admit it to the older woman. 

Harley ignored her comment, instead focusing on filling up the duffel bag on the counter. Meanwhile, Cassie searched the knocked out people, grabbing any left-over valuables that she did not pickpocket before. “Aren’t we here to pick up the box for our client? The box in the security deposit that the bank refused to open for him?”

“Says the girl that’s pickpocketing the clients”

“My point still stands”

Zipping up the bag, Harley bounced up and grabbed the employer’s keys “lesson 14 of bank heists: if you can, always steal more than you came for”

Cassie shrugged. She wasn’t going to argue with the expert. They ran to the vaults room with the excitement one would expect of Harley Quinn and a pre-teen. Harley opened the vault belonging to their client and took out the box they came here to retrieve. Apparently there were some old family journals - Harley stopped listening after he payed them. Putting it away, she threw the keychain to her protege, who immediately dashed to open the rest of the vaults. 

“Hey Harls?”

“Yeah”

“I found Black Mask’s vault” At that, the clown walked up to her as she opened it. It was completely empty, not even a dollar in sight. “Well that’s just sad.”

“Yeah, I heard he had financial problems”

“He wasn’t exactly the best club owner”

“True”

Shaking her head, Cassie opened the next vault - one belonging to Warren White, if the name tag was anything to go by - and yet again, revealed an empty room. “Is everyone going bankrupt around here or what?”

Harley shrugged and looked around. Finally, her eyes spotted something that made her bounce up happily. “Oh look! That’s Bruce Wayne’s vault over there!”

The heist did end up successful in the end.

* * *

_ Swoosh _ . The crossbow bolt lodged itself into a goon’s neck. But that didn’t stop the next wave from rushing at her. Huntress dodged a punch, throwing the attacker over her arm. With a roundhouse kick, she knocked out the second one. A few well-placed punches took care of the third one.

When a body fell just behind her, Helena jumped up, startled. She looked at the knocked out goon’s knife and at a smug looking Renee - or, how she preferred to be called now: The Question - and nodded in thanks. She had to admit: it was good having people around to watch her back.

In mere minutes, they were done. Dinah didn’t even have to use her Canary Scream, even though she grew more confident and skilled in using it. She walked up to one of the goons that were not knocked out and picked him up to a sitting position. A punch to the face brought him back from his haze.

“Who do you work for?” Renee asked as she approached them. They learned a while ago to let the ex-cop do the interrogations. 

“N-not t-telling” he croaked out, spitting blood on the ground.

Huntress raised her crossbow threateningly. His eyes widened and he lifted up his arms. “Nevermind. I’ll tell you anything, just don’t kill me”

“Start with answering my question”

“I work for the White Shark. He took over Black Mask’s people.” Before Renee could ask another question, he added “we were sent to rob the museum delivery. That’s all I know, I swear!”

Renee looked him over. Finally, she sighed and nodded. “He’s telling the truth” she walked a few steps away “We’re done with him”

_ Swoosh _ . A bolt escaped the crossbow and buried itself into the goon’s neck. The Question whipped around, a shocked expression on her face. 

“That’s not what I meant, Huntress!”

“You said we were done with him”

“Yes! That we’re done with him - not that we’ll kill him!” She glanced at the body and cursed under her breath. Dinah sighed, rubbing her temples. Helena shifted, clearly uncomfortable. Black Canary cleared her throat, breaking the tension “We should look around the warehouse”

“Good idea. Just don’t kill anyone more, Huntress” Renee scowled. Helena frowned slightly and walked up to the boxes. After a few minutes of investigation - well, a few minutes of Renee investigating and the other two looking around aimlessly - they found a crate with a document attached to it. 

“The Martinezi family jewelry exhibition” Renee read out loud. Helena perked up at that, an unreadable expression passing her face”

“Did you say the Martinezi family?”

“Yes, why? Do you know them?” Renee went into full-investigation mode.

“They were family friends. They had Italian roots like my family and were very rich” Helena responded

“Were?” Dinah spoke out, furrowing her brows.

“They were all killed. Like my family was” Helena shifted, directing her gaze at the dirty floor. She didn’t like bringing up her family, even though her revenge did bring her the catharsis she hoped for. “It’s was a weird situation. My dad used to say that they were untouchable. I don’t know why exactly. I think they just had good contacts… but as I said, I don’t know. And then one day, they were all murdered.”

Dinah placed a hand on her arm, squeezing it. “Why would anyone want to steal their stuff? Just for the money?”

Helena nodded “they were very rich. Their jewelry is worth millions” she sent Dinah a small smile, appreciating the comfort she offered “Besides, our families were close and I think some people might think that they borrowed the idea of encrypting things in diamonds and jewelry”

“Did they?” Renee asked.

Helena shrugged “I don’t think so, no. I’m sorry, I know that’s useless-”

“Hey, it’s not useless at all.” Dinah stopped her. Renee nodded, agreeing. 

“Did anyone find anything else?”

Hesitating slightly, Dinah spoke up “No, but a few days ago, when we were at that club that Harley picked, I heard some people talking about a shipment and weapons. It’s a long shot but it might be connected. I’ll go there tonight. See if I can find out anything” 

Dinah wasn’t exactly lying. She did plan on going to the club, as she had a concert planned. She could mix business and… business, without her teammates knowing about her side job. Dinah didn’t want to tell them yet, fearing that they might react negatively. Thankfully, Renee seemed to approve of the idea. “Good plan. I’ll ask around with my old cop friends. Maybe they know something”

“I can go with Dinah-”

“No”

“No?” Helena asked, slightly confused. 

“I just thought it might be best if you… looked around through… I don’t know, old family journals? Maybe you can find something about the Martinezi family?”

Dinah almost breathed out in relief when the other woman seemed convinced. Renee sent her a weird look, but she ignored it. One thing to worry at a time.

In the distance, they heard police sirens. Glancing at each other, the Birds of Prey fled the warehouse.

* * *

Dinah’s performance was stunning, if the crowd’s reaction was anything to go by. Not knowing that she had three more songs planned, they practically begged for more. The sound of the music starting again evoked loud applause. Dinah lived for moments like these. Dim lighting, music reverberating in her bones and an insatiable crowd at her feet. She loved crime fighting, but this? Singing in front of a crowd? It was her passion.

But her passion did not aid her in crime fighting. At least not today. She tried snooping around before her performance, but she did not find out anything. The bartender that she overheard last time was nowhere to be seen as well. With a pang of disappointment, she concluded that she won’t be able to find out anything tonight.

So she finished her repertoire and headed to the bar. She might as well take advantage of one of the job’s perks: free drinks. The moment her drink met the counter, the manager, Sarah Fowler, and her current boss (or at least one of the bosses) materialized besides her. Dinah jumped up, startled. Sarah laughed good-naturedly “Sorry to scare you, Dinah”

“I just didn’t expect to see you tonight”

“How could I miss your first concert? It was amazing, by the way” She asked. Dinah was naturally a bit sceptic, so her suddenly-friendly demeanour felt odd, especially taking into account her behaviour the first time they met.

“Uh, thanks”

“No problem” Sarah cleared her throat “So, is your friend joining us tonight?”

“My friend?”

“Harley. I heard that you two were friends. Aren’t you?”

“We are. And no, she won’t be here tonight”

A frown appeared on Sarah’s face, her friendly appearance disappearing for a moment. “Well, when you see her ago, can you tell her that the owner wants to see her?”

“The owner?”

“Mr. White” And with that, she disappeared back into the crowd.

* * *

On the other side of Gotham, Harley Quinn plopped onto the couch, a bowl of cereal in her hands and her protege besides her. Bruce was lying nearby them, happily munching on a big piece of meat that may or may not look like a human arm. A few bags filled with money rested on the kitchen table, along with Cassie’s loot.

Suddenly, the news came on. Harley was about to change the channel when the presenter said something that made her freeze.

“The Joker was imprisoned”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double cliffhanger!
> 
> Comments and kudos are very appreciated!


	3. Reactions and plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3! Sorry for taking so long, lol.   
> I appreciate every comment and kudo - they really mean a lot! Thank you very much!

“The Joker was imprisoned”

The rest of the presenter’s speech was zoned out by Harley, his voice becoming nothing more than a nuisance at the back of her brain. She froze completely, with a spoon halfway to her mouth, milk dripping off of it into the bowl.

A devastating wave of emotion hit her like a tsunami. Anger, regret, sadness, relief, happiness, worry - all at once. Harley felt as if she was drowning in them, sinking deeper and deeper despite a small voice - or was it the presenter’s voice? or the voice of the woman she used to be? - screaming at her to swim  _ up up up _ . But as the flurry of emotions battled, pressing against her, suffocating her, Harley felt helpless. And she hated feeling helpless.

It was Cassandra’s voice that was her lifeline. Harley could swear that that annoying, wonderful kid saved her in that moment. Her question pulled her out of the ocean of confusing emotions and thoughts and above the surface, where she could finally breathe: “Ew, that’s the guy you dated?”

Funny, how a few months ago she would, without hesitation, respond “yes”. And she would say that with the pride and admiration of someone who accomplished an achievement or got an award (or was it the pride and admiration of a possession towards its owner?). But now, all she could muster was a nod, Cassie’s comment from a few months ago -  _ he sounds like a jerk _ \- ringing out in her head. As if realizing where (and when) exactly she was, Harley set down the cereal bowl onto the table. Those words took away her appetite. 

She could breathe again but still was swimming in the ocean of emotions. Emotions that she did not want to adress. Questions such as  _ why was she feeling sad? why was she relieved?  _ that she did not want to answer. And the uncertainty of what she should and what she wanted to do now. Cassie’s voice was once again the thing that pulled her out of her downward spiral.

“How do you fall in love with someone like him?”

How do you fall in love with someone like the Joker? Harley’s first thought was that the question itself wasn’t a good one. There wasn’t anyone exactly like the Joker. In his madness and the chaos that it pushed him into (the chaos that he loved more than he loved her), he was unique. 

Harley’s voice was a traitor. Instead of a chirpy, happy tone, an uncertain one escaped her lips: “He’s very charming. And- and he’s… passionate. He-” Her voice may have betrayed her, but eyes did not. Her gaze searched for an escape and found it.

“You know what? I lost my appetite. I think there’s a roller derby race tonight.” She jumped off of the couch with a new dose of energy and grabbed the equipment that lied on the floor. “Let’s go!” she exclaimed, practically pulling a sceptic looking Cassie from the couch - the kid was too smart for her own good - and towards the exit. Bruce glanced up from his meal as the door shut behind them.

Despite Harley’s… interesting career choice and Cassandra’s position as her apprentice, the kid rarely feared for her life when she was out with her. But during the ride from their apartment to the roller derby place, she prayed to every single deity she knew. It was a miracle that their neck-breaking speed and dangerous turns did not attract the attention of the local police. But then again, this was Gotham. Cassie couldn’t decide whether Harley was a formidable driver or a reckless one. Or both.

Barely a few minutes later, Harley was on the tracks, pushing and hitting any poor soul that happened to be in her way. Including her teammates, who cursed her out with terms Cassie has never even heard before. If Cassie thought that their drive here was wild, this was on another level. She was pretty sure that she saw someone’s tooth fall out. And the sickening crack when Harley pushed someone into the wall hinted at injuries greater than mere bruises. Cassie didn’t know what exactly evoked such anger in the clown, but she presumed that it had something to do with her ex. Cassie promised herself to punch him in the face if she ever met him - from what she has heard, he was a massive jerk and deserved worse than that. 

After the match ended - with a staggering win for Harley’s team, for obvious reasons - Harley was pulled away to the side by her team’s captain before Cassie could reach her. By the time the teenager reached her - which roughly translated to two stolen watches and a stolen bracelet later - Harley’s team captain left and the clown in question held a card in her hands. 

“Fun match?”

“Hm?” The older woman teared her gaze away from the card to face her “oh yeah. Though I have made some enemies.”

Cassie took her by surprise, slipping the card out of her grasp and into hers. “Underground roller derby club, huh? What is it, a fight club knock off?”

“How did you- “ Harley’s face formed an expressive frown “you still have to teach me that”

Cassie raised her eyebrow as she snatched the card back. The card which had only the name and an address on it. “I don’t know what exactly this is. Cap said that it’s a more hardcore version of what they have here”

“Sounds shady. I’m in”

* * *

“Everything is going according to plan” A man standing besides the window spoke out.

“Except for the shipments?” A woman inquired, standing a few meters away from him.

“Except for the shipments. But I assume that a second round in on their way?” The slightest hint of a threat was traceable in his voice.

“Of course. We doubled the security.”

“Good”

After a few minutes, the woman spoke out again: “Gotham doesn’t treat snitches well, boss”

“Yeah yeah I know. Snitches get stitches and all that” the man responded. The sun, beating down on them through the wide window, reflected off of his disfigured, completely white head. “But I’m not afraid of a few stitches if it means taking over this city”

The woman nodded, slightly impressed by her boss. The silence that enveloped the two of them would be eerie, if not for the fact that she did not fear the man in front of her. She had no reason to, after all. As long as she was useful, she was safe. His hoarse voice cut through the silence, however, with a question: “Did you do what I asked you to?”.

“Yes.” 

“Good. Now we wait”

* * *

“I think whatever the club’s manager is planning and the ring are connected” Dinah spoke out “I didn’t hear anything else about the shipments, but guess who’s the owner of the club? Some Mr. White. And guess who ordered those goons to rob the museum delivery?”

“Oh! I know!” Helena raised her hand, excitement shining in her eyes “The White Shark dude”

“Exactly” Dinah nodded, slightly amused, but with a soft expression in her eyes.

“You think those two are the same person?” Renee asked from her place near a whiteboard. The Martinezi family name was scribbled on the middle, connected to a bubble with the words ‘White Shark’ in it. Mind maps were her favorite way of solving mysteries, so the ex-cop took it upon herself to create one.

They were at the Birds’ base in the living room. Did they have a conference room? Yes. But the living room was comfier and felt less official. 

“You don’t?”

“I called a few of my contacts. The White Shark is a gangster. A manipulative, smart and motivated gangster. He was charged with numerous murders and heists and spent a few years in Arkham before escaping. He had ties to the Black Mask and worked with him for a few years. If the goon said the truth, Black Mask’s goons - at least the ones we didn’t beat up - are his now. I don’t know if he’s the same person as the club owner, but I know we have to stop him. Whatever the cost.”

“You still talk like a cop from an old movie” Helena commented. Renee rolled her eyes and continued “Right now Dinah is the one with the biggest chance of finding out whether the club owner and the gangster are the same person.” 

“Actually, that would be Harley”

“What?”

“The manager…” Dinah chose her words carefully. She didn’t know why she kept her singing job a secret, but she was too far in to question it. “asked me about Harley. We met for a moment. I think she saw me with Harley when we had our girls night. Apparently the owner wants to meet her”

Renee frowned, thinking. Helena spoke out “why does the owner want to meet her?”

“How do I know?”

“Maybe Dinah is right. If it is the White Shark, it would make sense to want to meet someone as high up as Harley” Renee commented. “Ok. Dinah, go with Harley to the meeting.”

“You don’t trust her?”

“I don’t trust Mr. White” Renee countered “He might want to kill her”

Dinah nodded “Ok. Though I have to tell her about the meeting first. And about all this” she gestured at the board. 

“You didn’t tell her yet?” Helena spoke out. 

“I didn’t have the chance” Dinah shrugged. “Anyways, did you find out anything from your family journals?”

“A bit. The Martinezi family was very rich.” Helena stood up as she spoke. “Their jewelry collection is worth over three hundred million dollars. And the most expensive thing is the Rose Ring.” She took out a picture and attached it to the board. The Rose Ring was, as the name suggested, in the shape of a rose with a hefty diamond in the middle of it. “It’s a family ring, passed down by generations. Or was it an engagement ring? Can’t remember. Nevertheless, it’s worth over a hundred million in itself”

Dinah whistled, impressed. Renee raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“But that’s not all. The ring is mentioned as very important, but not because of it’s worth. I don’t exactly know why. But still, it’s worth a lot so it makes sense that a gangster wants to steal it.

Renee chimed in “but if the ring is a part of the museum exhibition, the police will be all over that place”

“As if that stopped anyone before” Dinah commented.

Renee shrugged and continued “Ok so now that we know what the White Shark wants to steal, we need a plan. Dinah, go with Harley to the meeting and try to see if the Mr. White and the White Shark are the same person. If not, well… they’re still shady. Look around the club, too. Meanwhile, I’ll go nearby the museum, check on the situation there. I’ll try asking a few other sources. Helena, you look around the warehouses where the jewelry is kept before the exhibition. Sounds good?”

The other two Birds of Prey nodded in response. Excitement buzzed around between them, not even slightly diminished by the gravity of the situation.

* * *

When Harley and Cassie returned from the roller derby place, they encountered a package lying in front of the door to their apartment. They exchanged a look before glancing back at the package. 

“You didn’t go on another online shopping spree, did you?” Cassie asked cautiously. 

“Nope. That was a week ago. This Harley is a different Harley that can control her shopping whims”

“You sure?”

The clown thought for a moment, tapping her chin. She nodded then, confirming what she said before.

“Then what do we do?”

“Then we open it!” Harley exclaimed, her equipment purposefully slipping out of her grasp and onto the hallway floor. She bounced up to the package and bent down to open it, but Cassie’s voice stopped her: “Wait! What if it’s a bomb?”

“Oh, you’re right” She nodded and stepped away from the box to grab a bat, which was waiting for her near the door, dubbed the ‘hallway bat for emergencies only’, or ‘Steve’. Harley poked the package with the tip and when nothing really happened, she smiled widely “See? Not a bomb”

Cassie shook her head before sighing. “Can we go inside then? I feel like the creepy neighbour is watching us”

The clown nodded and grabbed her things. She petted a laughing Bruce as she entered and placed the package on the table, dumping the rest of her things in the corner. With Harley and Cassie living here, the place was a bit of a mess, with various things lying in various places that they were not intended to lie in.

Taking off her jacket, Cassie hesitantly asked “So… are you feeling better?”

“Taking out emotions in the form of aggressive actions is very unhealthy but very effective. So yes” Harley responded, the psychiatrist part of her shining through for a moment. 

“Do you want to talk about those emotions?”

“Not in particular, no. I’d prefer to see what’s in the mystery package!” Harley grabbed a knife and walked up to it. The box wasn’t particularly big, only slightly bigger than the old tv they had at her old apartment before it blew up. “Ooh, do you think it’s one of those mystery boxes people buy off of the dark web? With fingers and other creepy shit inside?”

“I think you have to buy those, so no”

“Bugger. Those are fun” Harley shrugged and began opening the box, discarding the packaging onto the floor. Cassie looked from her place besides her, not bothering to hide the curiosity in her eyes.

What they found wasn’t what Harley would’ve expected in a thousand years. It was a collection of journals and tape recordings, each carefully labeled and signed “Harleen Quinzel”.

* * *

Unbeknown to them, just as the Birds of Prey were finishing their meeting, scheduling everything and discussing different matters, the plants they kept near the windows changed. And by changed, I mean grew to be much, much larger than they would ever grow to be. 

By the time the three women noticed, the plants covered nearly every wall, fragile twigs were morphed into strong vines and a powerful, feminine voice rang out: “Where is Harley Quinn?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may or may not have noticed, I do not know the proper rollery derby terminology, so apologies for that.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated!


End file.
